Butterfly
by NewPaladin
Summary: The frog cheers Mercedes up in a bit of an unconventional way.


Mercedes is so cute 3 Love her story.

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><p>While Matthew gathered the small troupe that had come for her, Mercedes sneaked away. Her whole body was trembling and tears were pressing against her eyes. She quickly pushed through the lush bushes of Elrit Forest until she was far enough away from the others, but still within earshot.<p>

She leaned against the trunk of a huge oak tree and sunk to the ground. As soon as she felt the moist earth on her legs, the tears bubbled out of her. Leaning forward, she sobbed.

First she had lost her mother, the one who had always watched over her and cared for her. And now Melvin, her cousin, who had taken her mother's place for a while, had betrayed her. There was no one to tell her how to make things right, no one could show her what she should do. Was she even doing the right thing? Would she even be able to return home?

"Mama, I need you," Mercedes whispered through her tears.

"There you are, little fairy." Mercedes startled upright and looked around. A bush to her left rustled and the talking frog jumped out. He studied her for a second and then walked over. Mercedes quickly tried to clean her face, but her eyes were surely red and puffy. "You still got some dirt on your forehead," the frog remarked as he sat down in front of her.

Mercedes blushed lightly, snorted her snot quite un-princess-like and wiped her forehead. "What are you doing here, frog?"

He shrugged. "I was looking for you. That old gnome would surely panic if he'd notice your absence." Mercedes dropped her gaze. _Matthew… _"So, why are you crying?" the frog asked nonchalantly.

Mercedes stiffened. "You're awfully rude," she answered. "Even for a frog."

He shrugged again, which offended Mercedes highly. Her opinion of that rude frog dropped rapidly. "No need to talk around it. Besides, the sooner you tell me, the more quickly we can do something against it."

Mercedes stared at him for a few seconds. Did this slimy, rude creature truly want to help her? She dropped her gaze to the ground. If so, she had also been rude; after all, it was obvious that he wasn't just a frog, but someone who had been cursed. And as the princess of Ringford, she had to show some manners.

"I don't think I can do this," Mercedes said lowly. "Mother… Mother was such a great leader. I can never be as good as her. I don't know how to fight a war. The cauldron…"

"You don't have to be like your mother." Mercedes glanced up at the frog. When he met her gaze, he shrugged. "Your not the same person, aren't you? You're bound to be different."

Mercedes shook her head and lowered her gaze again. Drawing her knees up to her chin and hugging them, she said: "You don't understand."

The frog seemingly didn't know how to reply and so silence fell over them. Mercedes thought of her mother, of her elegance and wisdom. How could she ever emulate them? After all, her mother had lived for so much longer than Mercedes. Mercedes didn't even know anything about tactics. She had always rather played with Matthew or other fairies, or practised with Tasla. While her mother and Melvin had cared for Ringford, Mercedes had just done what was fun.

"Well, sitting behind some bushes and crying will definitely not turn you into a queen."

Mercedes yanked her head up and glared at the frog. He just shrugged again. "What are you-?"

"You've still got some battles to win, don't you? If you do nothing and don't get better, the valkyries will devour you. Like those grey birds that eat these flying water insects. What are they called again?"

Mercedes stared at him for a second with an open mouth. "Birds? _Insects_?"

"Well, valkyries have feathers like birds and you fairies," the frog stood up on his hind legs and peered behind Mercedes, "have wings that look more insect-like."

Involuntarily, Mercedes' mouth pulled into a pout. "I'm not some insect," she replied huffily. "I'm like a beautiful butterfly." She fluttered lightly with her wings. The frog tilted his head, rested it on his hand and looked her over. Mercedes bristled; was that rude frog implying that she looked more like– like a gnat than a butterfly!? "Well, I do not want to be in the company of such a rude frog."

She jumped to her feet, patted the dirt of her legs and walked over to a puddle to check how her face looked. Her eyes were still a bit red, but no longer puffy. It wouldn't be too obvious that she had been crying.

With her head high and obviously not looking at the frog, she walked towards the camp. After pushing through the first bush, she heard the frog mumbled behind her: "Now that's more like a queen."

Mercedes couldn't help but smile to herself and her heart thumped gently against her chest. "Thank you, frog," she whispered, hoping that she was quiet enough so that the frog couldn't hear her. He had been trying to help her and give her courage, but he still had been terribly rude. She would thank him later. In Ringford.


End file.
